


Always

by anivet



Category: Left 4 Dead, Left 4 Dead 2
Genre: Always, Death, Eventual Smut, F/M, Gore, L4D - Freeform, L4D2, Left 4 Dead - Freeform, M/M, Nellis, One-Sided Attraction, Sexual Themes, Slow Burn, Violence, Zombies, gay pair, left 4 dead 2 - Freeform, m/m - Freeform, secondary M/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-04
Updated: 2016-09-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 21:09:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7949257
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anivet/pseuds/anivet





	Always

The stairs felt like an eternity. The cold echo of his footsteps descending the solid steps was the only sound Nick could make out beside the roar of a fire somewhere distant and the groans of what he was assuming were the undead. Only…they weren’t. These people weren’t dead, just sick; he was running around shooting infected people who all probably needed intense medical attention.

The thing was, these sick people- _the infected_ , all killed anybody who would even have the slightest idea of how to help. And Nick wasn’t one to stick his neck out for anyone if he didn’t benefit from it. Which is _exactly_ how he got left behind in the stairway while the three strangers he’d been abandoned with ran ahead. It was idiotic to fall so far back, he realized, but he didn’t want to be the first out of that door. 

The weight of his Desert Eagle was a comfortable one, resting safely between his hands. The door before him was already slightly ajar. Blood had been smeared all over it like some deranged child decided to color all over the walls with red fingerprint. It was morbid, the sight of congealed blood and tattered flesh hanging off it shredded strips, but it was one he’d had previous experience with. (Although the pretexts had been different.) He’d seen blood baths before, the one on the cruise ship being the most recent one.

The attacks had been unexpected. The captain refused to go to port because being out on water was much safer, and Nick had been inclined to agree at first. That is until the screams had started. He supposed the ones who the passengers believed to be sea sick had indeed been infected, the most weak and liable to this disease, seeing as how they hadn’t even been bitten.

“Safer on water”, Nick scoffed to himself with a shake of his head. At least on land there was someplace to _run_ too. It had been a pure stroke of luck that he’d managed to swipe a safety raft when he did. The means were nothing he was proud of, of course, but he was able to get his ass out of there just in time to see the luxury craft meet head on with a bridge it was much too large to fit under.

Seeing such a large vessel tremble and crumble into the water was truly fascinating, to be honest. Nick could have watched those red flames lick the sky for hours until they were choked out by the churning ripples. Destruction was beautiful in some weird, twisted way. He had admitted this to himself at a fairly young age, and if the situation had been different, he would have appreciated the sight. Now that he thought about if however, that may have been a sick thing to think. There were people on that ship. And while he was bobbing away he could see a few desperate, small black dots leap from the bow and sink under the lapping waves.

Nick decided that dwelling on the past was pointless and gently nudged the door open the rest of the way with his scuffed shoes. The smoke was filtering through, and he could smell the tarp on the roof catching fire; it was faint in comparison to the stench of roasted meat.

Taking great care, fingers curling around the magnum in his palms, he took a deep breath of sooty air. Breaching the doorways frame he could see a charred form twitch, rear up and stagger forward. It's jaw hanging loose and dangling at an unnatural angle. He figured that hick had probably smacked the beast in the face with that crow bar of his, knocking the stupid creature out of its wits long enough for it to be Nick’s problem.

His lip curled upwards in disgust. The gray tinted flesh smelled sour and sick, its foul scent hanging heavily in the space between them. A space Nick was quick to close with a high head and squared shoulders. A bullet plowed deep into its left eye socket. It's body toppled to the floor, and Nick caught the washed out white glare of an infected about four yards off, swaying on unbalanced feet as it realized it was face to face with a human. It tilted its head to the side and howled, lurching forward in a clumsy charge. The yellow hazmat suit squeaked together as he moved, grating on Nick’s nerves. He didn’t even hesitate to aim his weapon. There was clear shot to the things forehead since the stupid plastic face plate was already ripped off of the rubber suit. 

He continued on his way, being careful to step around or over the fallen and deceased. Truly deceased. ‘ _No_ ,’ he reminded himself. ‘ _Sick_ _. They’re sick_.’ He halted when he peeked around the corner, jerking himself back and planting himself against the cream walls. Slowly, his curiosity won out and he allowed himself a moment to observe the scene before him. A crouched figure scrapped its broken nails over a minced face, squatting on her victims still back. Curiously, the fiend stuck her digits in her rotting mouth and sucked the rubies from its fingertips. _‘_ _Sick is right_ ,’ Nicked noted without any humor. He watched with minor interest for a second longer. It was important to learn everything you could about your opponent, be it at the poker table or during a zombie apocalypse. Damn he felt silly just _thinking_ about it.

Shaking his head to justify his own questionable sanity, he stepped out from his temporary barricade and waited for the infected to cross the barrier between them.

The infected seemed confused, lost. The dead body had long ago stopped fighting back and was still beneath her, she won. And yet…the anger persisted. She could feel it twisting and mutating into a hot white rage, until all that remained was an ulcer ridden body that could no longer walk in a straight line. All reasoning was lost from the remains of her strained mind and she jerked, tearing at her skin to rip out the phantom bugs that ate away at her sanity. Finally having enough, she twitched and snarled throwing herself off the reeking corpse. She staggered back, her neck straining so she could observe this new stimulation. The heat radiating in the enclosed space was much like the hotness she found in the blood from the person beneath her, the kind that pulsed echoed in her ears, making them ring. She found that she was entirely content to stare at the ceiling and all its fascinating colors; the flames from the other room beginning to char through as red and gold licked its white surface.

Nick’s patience quickly ran out and he swiftly took care of the entranced woman in front of him, her body dropping heavily. The quick succession of bangs echoed loudly through the halls and he saw a blue cap pop out from one of the side rooms further down the way before a large, winning grin greeted his eyes, glinting in the light granted by the flames hidden behind closed doors.

“Suit Man!” Nick’s face instantly screwed up in disgust. “Where the hell did’ya get _that_?” The hick was quick to race to his side, eyes wide and intrigued by the gun he was packing.

“I had fun picking off your leftovers.”

The boy, who he was assuming was a teen, didn’t seem the least bit fazed by Nick's narrowed eyes or spiked tongue. “Yeah well, as much as I’d like ta stick around’n get ‘em all, the buildin’ is on fire. I for one ain’t so fond of burnin’ myself to a crisp unlike my buddy Kieth- _in fact_ ,” the young man didn’t seem to know when to shut the hell up. So before Nick could remind him to kindly _shut the hole in his face,_ he became distracted by a looming shadow accompanied by heavy footsteps stretch their way. Nick was quick to clamp a hand over the red neck’s mouth and hushed him, jerking his head towards the corridor in warning.  

The kid seemed to get the hint and his baby blue eyes flickered where Nick’s gray ones rested. He felt the face under his hand grow tense, teeth clenching together. Yanking his face away from Nick’s salty hand, he lifted the crow bar up and took a defensive stance. Nick didn’t care if the younger male was disturbed by him touching his mouth. In fact, the feeling was mutual. He had instantly wanted to wipe his palms on his pants, but that would probably only get them dirtier than they already were. His fist curled around his gun instead and he hoisted it up, finger already on the trigger.

“Oh, hey its just you!” The young idiot beside him was already bounding away, a happy bounce in his step as he met the large figure at the door. Nick was still holding the person in his sights, watching as the shadowed figure stepped into the light.

A heavy, brown hand fell on the excited boy’s shoulder as the stranger addressed him.

“Get’yer ass movin’, youngin. Me ‘n that nice lady in there almost lost you” Nick looked their new visitor up and down with a lack of interest. 

The man seemed to be some sort of gym teacher by the looks of it. His outfit was awful and boring, from the gold and purple polo shirt, down to the frayed edges of his khaki pants. Nick resisted the urge to spit and focused on other aspects of the person before him. The man was huge, definitely over six feet, and was packing more chub than the gambler deemed acceptable during the end of the world. Wasn’t it funny how fat people always seemed to be the physical instructors? Whatever, it didn’t matter to him. This man would only slow him down with his age and weight, that was reason enough to ditch him when given the chance. Not to mention how loud and obnoxious that redneck was...

Yep it was decided. As soon as his chance arrived, Nick was getting the fuck out of there.

“Why don’t you go an’ tell her we’re on our way,” the African American nudged, not even gracing the hick with a glance, too focused on returning Nick's stare.

The kid stopped sprouting an apology that lasted far too long for either of their tastes and the cap was tilted as he dashed away, doing as he was told. “Will do.”

The elder man hummed at the departure and finally met the stony gray glare that surveyed his existence with scrutiny. “I’d appreciate it if you’d point that shit somewhere else.” The man’s voice was low, calm. It irked him instantly that this stranger thought he could order him around like that. The con-man decided to make this situation work for him. It wouldn’t do him much good if his shields against the infected wouldn’t want to have his back in a cinch, or at least until he could get the hell away from them.

Grunting, Nick did as was suggested, tilting the gun to the side. If only by a little bit. The stranger apparently wasn’t as retarded as his dressing sense. In fact, he read right into the hidden meaning. Nick didn’t trust him. The look that was thrown back his way said the same thing and he didn’t even blink at it. Its not like he wasn’t accustomed to that expression already.

“You had that this whole time?”

Nick didn’t answer, deciding the question was more of a statement anyway. Instead he waltzed on past the sweaty chocolate-colored teacher. The man sidestepped and gave him plenty of room to squeeze past and into the doorway. Holding his breath he ignored the stench that rolled off the purple clad man with all his might and stepped forward.

The room was fairly large. It seemed to be a workers lobby, complete with a large white table with scattered papers and coffee mugs abandoned all over the place. Light filtered through the windows and he noticed a small balcony littered with corpses. The sun's rays were roasting their exposed bodies and the smell drifted into their space through the busted sliding glass doors.

“Roofman,” a smaller, woman greeted. “So, you finally decided to join the party, huh?” Her smile didn’t reach her eyes, it was as if she was telling a dark joke that she didn’t find funny herself. Nick didn’t feel the same. If anything, he _wanted_ to laugh. This whole situation was a sick joke.

“Well I couldn’t let _you_ people have all the fun.” She seemed different from the others. Strong. Maybe not physically he realized, with her small physique and thin bones protruding from her dark skin. But her will and thoughts seemed to be collected and in order. Good. He didn’t want to be surrounded by anyone who couldn’t carry their own weight one way or another.

“Hm,” she nodded, turning her attention back to whatever rested on the table and he felt compelled to learn forward and look for himself. The hick was sitting about two inches away from her left side, his ass propped on the surface and his legs kicked the air childishly as he fiddled with a bottle of Advil.

“So, CEDA’s headin’ to New Orleans?” Nick’s head shot up and he rushed forward.

“Careful where you’re swinging that,” she warned, giving a quick once over to his precious gun before meeting his eyes. “If you set that thing off it’ll draw attention. And if you shoot _me_ with it I'll have you wishing I left you for the infected.”

Nick raised his hands in mock surrender, more amused by her threats than cautious. Although he didn’t think she would hesitate to hit him if he pushed her too far.

She demanded respect, it was evident in the way she carried herself. Her brown eyes seemed to be endless and he wasn’t sure where the iris ended or where the pupils began.  

All in all, he found her very attractive.

_‘That isn’t the point_ ’, he reminded himself. He carefully moved the gun to a safer position to be held and leaned closer, all his attention was on the circles and x’s lining the map spread out before them. “CEDA left this?”

“They left a lot of stuff.” Tall, dark, and round had returned and was studying a poster board being displayed on a tripod.

“Yeah, mostly zombies,” the kid added. He didn’t even sound too sour about it, that blasted grin still on his face as he kicked his feet. It made Nick want to punch it off. Did he think this was a _game_? He resisted the urge to rip the kids teeth out so he couldn’t smile anymore by checking over the evidence in front of him.

_'Were all of these places already lost? What did this mean? How bad had all this gotten? How far would he have to go to get to safety?’_

The questions wouldn’t stop, but the answers were lost in molasses, being sucked down into the darkness without even enlightening him of his situation. “Well folks, it looks like we’re up shit creek without a paddle.” He sighed.

“Not if we find a new evac station," the hick added helpfully.

Nick wanted to roll his eyes. Correction-he _did_ roll his eyes. “Is there not one negative bone in your body, kid?”

“Nope!”  With a quick motion, the hat was popped off and a calloused hand ran itself through the sandy locks plastered to his dumb head. Nick let his upper lip roll up in annoyance. The brat seemed pretty damned proud of himself.

“Of course not,” he grumbled, temper rising. The petite woman flicked the kid in his knee and he quietly apologized to her and stuck his cap back on his head. The woman nodded and gave him a reassuring smile before clearing her throat and looking back down at the map.

“I say we all head to Louisiana, it's one of the only places that's circled and  _doesn’t_ have a big red no-no plastered all over it. What do you think,” she called across the room at the oldest male who was too preoccupied staring at that ridiculous poster. He mulled it over all the same.

“I think it's our best guess. We may find one on the way, but for right now, it's pretty much the only clear option we have.”

Nick had been busy studying the paper, thinking of all the pros and cons of each decision. He liked to be prepared. He wasn’t sure if he would stick with these people all the way to Louisiana, but if there wasn't any closer options there was no way he was heading even further down south with no body guards. He didn’t share his opinions outwardly, deciding that he would need to have a fallback plan just in case his traveling career with this bundling band of misfits didn’t work out so well.

“So, what about you?” Calculating brown eyes searched his and he knew she wouldn’t take his silence for an answer. Not wanting to put too much out there, he sighed and pointed to the crinkled paper. He guessed the people who made these markings on it were beginning to panic because the circles were less and less precise and he could tell that they had been drawn with a shaking hand.

“East and North have the most land that hasn’t been touched by whatever this is since it was last checked up on. Besides, there's no way of knowing if New Orleans didn’t crash and burn already. So as far as I can tell, who’s to say this map is even accurate anymore?”

Heads around him nodded and he let himself relax inwardly. That should satisfy them. And it did. The woman went back to looking their game plan over and the large man was reading the poster with a sympathetic yet repulsed face. Unable to stand his own curiosity any longer, Nick stepped forward.

“Oh look,” he chirped. “The zombie version of you!” An unamused glare was sent his way and Nick couldn’t help but smirk. The more he studied the plank of cardboard the more his smug expression died away. In capital letters the word Boomer was hugged by quotation marks. Nick's attention was caught by a series of unflattering pictures featuring an obese monstrosity. The creature looked like a bloated tick, full off of blood and human flesh. His dry tongue darted out over chapped lips as Nick observed his new enemy.

Regretfully Nick had a habit of looking too much into things and his eyes were tainted by images of blood splatters, vomit and even worse, an infection rate. In hindsight these facts were good to know, except Nick _didn’t want to know_ _._ He didn’t want to know _anything_ about these freaks because if he did that would make it so much more real.

He shuddered. The words blurred together as he read, his mind not comprehending what was being processed. Apparently there hadn’t been much time for research, all the poster was really able to say was to avoid them, and there was about a twenty eight percent chance of becoming an inflated bag of puke. Due to the poor fuckers mutation its gastrointestinal system inflated causing its skin to stretch outwards and become frail and thin, and if it couldn’t get more disgusting- the strange boils protruding from its inflated gut were other organs that shifted and clung to its belly, full to to the point of bursting with its own bile.  

As much as he loved to read about zombies drowning in their own sick, he was grateful for the distraction the smell of smoke gave him. “The building is still on fire, you know.”

The man beside him grunted and pulled himself away from the dreary reality they had been thrust in. “We need to head out,” he informed the others, making sure to pick up the axe. They had probably only been in the room no longer than a minute but it felt like he’d been trapped in there for years.

Their future looked bleak and Nick never fancied himself as an optimistic so he didn’t even sugar coat it when he turned to the large man who exited before him and fell only two steps behind his long strides.

“Be careful to not get bit,” he warned, looking up to the man's back. The stranger stiffened but his step didn’t waver and Nick’s finger curled tighter over the comforting chill of his gun. “Or you really _will_ become one of those things.”


End file.
